Complex and Conflicted

This is going behind a cut, mostly ’cause it ain’t really anything I’m proud of.

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In Which I Don’t Panic

No, really!

(mostly)

It’s stupid, really – just a throw-away sentence in a post on another blog, saying I’ve got gender issues (whoooo, shock).

I erased and typed and erased and typed and erased and typed that line probably 10 times before hitting publish. Even though probably nobody else will even pay attention to it, and a few posts sidetracking into RL from the normal content of that blog will be quickly forgotten.

But hey, I hit post.

Price differences

I’ve been wanting a packer for a while. We’ve amassed a number of ama.zon gift cards, and the wife said, only somewhat jokingly, that we should see if we can buy one there.

Well – you can!

But get this – the $24 one is listed for $30, and the $28 one for $40. Outrageous! I think we’ll find something else to spend those gift cards on…

Experimentation

With a bit more time to work with, I tried the binder out again on Saturday. With your notes, I lifted a bit, and also moved the girls to the sides, and it helped.

In a dress shirt, it’s definitely still a bit of a drop-off. Less so than before, but definitely more noticeable than in a t-shirt.

It’s hard to say what a properly fitting t-shirt would look like, as the more masculine ones I own are too big for me. Out of a combination of needing room for the boobs, wanting something bigger because I’d rather my more masculine shirts not be showing off my curves, and having lost a bit of weight (and, okay, perhaps a bit of stretching in there), they’re not precisely small.

Which is usually okay, because I’m not, either.

But wearing one out with the binder… it was like a TENT. It was ridiculously large.

So, I’d be interested to see what it looks like with a smaller shirt.

Meanwhile, I wore it for 6 hours, and it was totally comfortable (minus the time when I didn’t pull it back down properly after using the bathroom, and it rolled up and the edge dug into my flab. but that was easily rectified). This adds to my wondering about whether I wouldn’t be able to pull off a size smaller, given how squishy I am. Not that I’m going there any time soon. But – yes, it was a bit tricky to get on, but not difficult, and not at all uncomfortable. Which, given comments I’ve seen from other people, made me wonder.

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Comfortable though it may have been, somewhere between hours 2 (when the movie I was attending was supposed to start) and 5 (when the movie I was attending let out and I was able to look at myself again), my breasts did the thing that they always do if there isn’t a brick wall separating them, and became a unified front, giving me a strange pointy lump at the front of my chest.

I’m not quite sure what to do about that – obviously when not in a theatre, I’d have more of an opportunity to use the restroom and re-adjust, but on the flip side, I probably wouldn’t want to be constantly going and re-adjusting.

Maybe I can make a foam something or other to stick between them, to try and avoid any wandering?

Surely I can’t be the only person with this issue. Off to look up more binding tips…

First attempt at binding

(With something other than a super tight sports bra, that is.)

I finally sucked it up and ordered a binder last week. We had a little bit of wiggle room in the budget, and I wanted to see if it would help.

I’ve only worn it once now, mind, so we’ll see. I’m glad I got it, but I think I’m going to have to look at pics of larger bio men to see if I can better arrange all my different bits.

It’s certainly the right size, and does a good job of flattening everything down to equal sizes. The problem seems to be that, when your breasts come 9-10″ out from your chest wall, there’s only so much that compression will do.

So, yes, I was able to put on and button a dress shirt I normally can’t, and from the front, it looked pretty decent.

But from the side, I’m not sure. Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware of the concept of “moobs,” and that if I were a bio man, I’d have them. But this doesn’t look like that. I feel like it still looks distinctly feminine. It’s sort of like… I’ve got a diagonal shelf coming out from my neck? Hard to explain. So I took pictures.

Taking a deep breath and hitting post before I can chicken out. Pics behind the cut, because though I’m (obviously) covered in each, they’re definitely revealing.

Any advice on positioning/clothing/layering?

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Cue Panic

The wife and I are going to a wedding later this month. Long, long ago, when we started thinking about it in more concrete terms than “hey! wedding!” I got rather annoyed. I didn’t have any dress or skirt/top combo that both a)fit and b)was appropriate for a wedding, and I sure as hell didn’t want to spend money on one that I wasn’t going to wear again.

I jokingly put out there that I should get a jacket and wear a jacket and tie instead.

And wife, being wonderful wife, said, “yes! you should!”

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And here we are, far closer to the event, and I have a jacket, a tie, a nice short-sleeved dress shirt, and dress pants. I even picked up a billfold like I’ve been wanting for ages, so I won’t look like an ass, trying to find a place for my driver’s license and debit card.

I am quite confident that I look good in the top, tie and jacket.

And yet, I am panicking.

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The parents of the bride are family members who were not so nice when the wife and I got married, and then dropped off the face of the earth, as far as contact with us went. The one has started to make amends over the last year and a half or so, but it’s still rather tenuous ground, and I am equal parts hoping and worrying that they’ll have a literal stroke in the middle of the venue.

My mother is rather immune to my eclectic style (so to say) at this point (and, at Christmas, said only to me, “are those men’s shoes?” “yes.” “ah, okay. I didn’t think you wore a 7…”), but has never seen me fully decked out in suit-wear. I haven’t mentioned to her that I’m doing this. I’m not sure why. Perhaps she’ll be fine with it. Perhaps she’ll think it’s utterly ridiculous and roll her eyes. Honestly, it’s about a 50/50 chance either way.  But, much as I know she loves me no matter what, it’s still hard when I know she thinks I’m being ridiculous, when it’s something that’s not ridiculous to me.

The one person who DOES know is the Bride, and she hasn’t said anything negative about it, so I suppose that’s all that matters. I did threaten to wear sneakers with the suit (converse one stars – I’m not a heathen), and may still do that, channeling my inner David Tennant. But I’m not sure I’m quite young and hip enough to pull it off in a room full of 20-something hipster musicians, and my family.

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I am confident that I’ll look good.

I am confident that I’ll feel good.

Now I just need to get over the fear of other people’s opinions.